“I think you mean, good afternoon.” Sinclair teased, fighting the urge to brush the hair from her face. “How are you feeling.”
Ella’s stomach answered for her, growling pointedly and making her flush. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Sinclair insisted, “I”ll get you something to eat. What would you like?”
Ella peeked up at him from beneath her lashes, “does it have to be healthy?”
Chuckling, Sinclair strode forward and kneeled down beside her. He pressed one hug palm to her belly, making her flinch with surprise, then shushing her gently and petting her hair. “Shh, I just want to feel the baby.” He focused on the tiny being in Ella’s womb, trying to pick up on their developing mental link.
Once he did, he began laughing again, a rich cozy sound that wrapped Ella in warmth. “So, pickles an
